Howl
by TheMidnightLemon
Summary: After four years of not seeing him Kyle didn't even recognize the incredibly good-looking brunette and now he can't get him out of his mind. Will his haunting fantasies become reality one stormy, summer night? Kyman One-shot.


_**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own South Park, it belongs to Matt Stone and Trey Parker!_

_**Rated:** M for graphic lemon sexiness.  
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_**A/N:** Just really wanted to write some Kyle and Cartman! It's definitely a PWP. It's also my first story in first person, wanted to try it out. I think I still prefer third person. But gotta try new things out so you can figure out your own style! So yes, please enjoy and review!_

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><p>It was going to storm. I could feel it in the air all afternoon. The tense, silent heat of the day made it obvious. As obvious as my own building storm.<p>

I clenched my Star of David in my hand, pulling at the sturdy, thin chain, feeling it dig sharply into the back of my neck. I stood shirtless on the balcony of my apartment, looking out onto the growing town of South Park. I had finally come home this summer after getting my undergraduate degree. The next year was going to be spent as an intern at my father's law firm.

But that all seemed unimportant now. All I could think about was that for four years I hadn't seen the bastard.

It was last night at Kenny's party. As if by fate, everyone returned to South Park this summer. We had all changed, matured, and had started to grow into the men and women we were going to be for the rest of our lives.

I didn't even recognize him. For hours I spied the mysterious brunette, wondering who he was, desperately trying to delve into my memories of high school and pinpoint a face like his. His features were strong, his eyes cunning. His jeans, dress shirt, and blazer were all black. Every move he made was poised, calculating, but at the same time charming. There was nobody like him stored in the vaults of my memories. A man like that only existed in my sinful, late night fantasies.

I watched him as much I could all night, but I never noticed him watching me. The more I drank him in the more curious I became and the more certain I was that he was going to be the man in my fantasies for months to come.

It wasn't until many drinks later that Kenny had walked up to me and shattered my perfect fantasy.

"You do realize you've been staring at Cartman like you want to rape him for hours now, right?"

I remember almost dropping my glass. I remember the world mocking me and at that moment confirming to me the truth in Kenny's statement. The brunette had bent over to pick up a coat that had been knocked to the ground and I saw it, gleaming gold, falling out of its secret spot under his dress shirt to hang freely in the air.

His swastika. Cartman's swastika.

I made my exit shortly after.

All the next afternoon I was haunted by the memory of the night before. Like the sweltering heat of the day I couldn't escape it. Every time I blinked I saw him. His slick brown hair, his deep brown eyes that evaded my gaze, his large, strong frame that perfectly filled out his tailored blazer.

It wasn't as if I was new to lust or desire, I experienced it plenty during my undergraduate career at University. But this, this fire, there was nothing to compare it to. My muscles were on edge, every nerve was sensitive, my breath came in deep inhales and shaky exhales.

The sun began to set, the clouds began to gather, the wind began to pick up, and I began to pace. What started as a haunting heat was turning into desperate, consuming desire. My manhood echoed my frustrations as it strained against my black jeans.

Soft raindrops hit my window and the cool air crept through the screen door. I pulled on my forest green cardigan, leaving it unbuttoned, my Star of David left uncovered on my chest.

I looked out the window and caught my reflection. I knew I had also grown into my looks. My once unruly fro was now a short main of curls framing my face. My nose, chin, and forehead which were once all too big for my face were now in proportion, giving me a hawk-like appearance. Years of swimming and soccer had sculpted my body. I doubt Cartman had even noticed it.

The first flash of lightning filled the dark apartment. I set my hands on the counter in front of me and waited in anticipation for its companion. A low, rumbling thunder followed, making me shiver. My eyes shut close for a moment to take in the threatening sound.

Cartman was behind me. Pressing against my back. His hands roamed over my chest and he slowly pressed his pelvis against my ass, letting me feel the hardness of his manhood...

I gasped, my eyes shooting open, and I shoved away from the counter, stumbling back into the fridge behind me.

"No," I whispered. No. I was not going to lust after him. He made my life hell for years. It was Cartman! But... was it? He looked nothing like the Cartman who harrassed me. He acted, moved, and spoke nothing like him. The only thing I had recognized was the symbol I hated most. Did it even mean the same thing to him anymore?

Another lightning pierced the sky and sooner than last time the thunder followed. The storm was getting closer.

I glanced to my cell phone. One call to Kenny and I could find Cartman.

I closed my eyes and banged my head back against the fridge. I couldn't consider that. What was I doing? One night of seeing him and suddenly I'm under some sort of spell? He hadn't even spoken a single word to me. He had not even acknowledged my existence. I had not caught him looking at me once, which now, was a blessing. If he looked over he would have caught me staring at him with a look that said far too much.

I walked to my armchair and sat in it, looking out my patio doors at the storm outside. It was getting increasingly darker and the rain was getting harder.

More lightning. More thunder. More thoughts. More wants.

My eyes wandered again to my cell. It would be so easy, so simple, one call...

"Agh!" I cried out in frustration, my hands gripping at my face. How, after all these years, could he still manage to get under my skin? He didn't even do anything besides show up and exist.

My hand instinctively clutched at my symbol of faith. Was some divine entity toying with me? Did they enjoy the hellish confusion they were putting me through? How could they do this to me, turning my nemesis into something out of my most intimate desires?

I stood, marching to the patio doors and slid open the screen, walking out onto the wet patio. The rain assaulted me, but did not have the cooling affect that I desired.

Forks of lightning flashed in front of me and the thunder boomed in quick succession. Only the storm seemed to understand the intensity of the battle waging in my mind.

I had given up on him long ago in high school. I didn't tell anyone, but I knew how amazing he could become. Even when he was fat you could see, at the right moments, the flashes of the handsome man that could be if he took better care of himself. I also knew how smart and how cunning he was, I was often on the receiving end of his schemes, but it was all a waste if he continued to use his talent on such trivial things. Perhaps, most important of all, was his need for self-confidence. I knew he had it now. It was so obvious in the way he held himself, the way he spoke. It was more intoxicating than the alcohol I had been drinking.

It wasn't the booze that gave me a hang over either, its affects wore off in my sleep. Cartman, on the other hand, left me aching and throbbing in places I refused to acknowledge. I had done nothing all day except think of him and force myself not to think of him. I also not planning to declare that "I'll never look at Cartman again" because that's all I wanted and much, much more.

The rain was quickly drenching me, but I couldn't find the will to care anymore. My clothes were sticking to me, teasing me, knowing that it was a body I wanted sticking to me instead.

I could feel another wave of desire was hitting me, more powerful than earlier in the day. I clenched the railing, my body shuddering.

A blast of thunder shook the ground beneath me and the vibrations racked through my tense body, sending me to my knees with a moan. The rain and my lust clouded my vision. I felt possessed, as if I couldn't control my body anymore as it writhed against the balcony's railing, my knuckles turning white as they gripped at the bars.

"Eric," I whispered desperately, finally giving in. I couldn't fight any more. I wanted him, I ached for him. It was as if I had been holding it in for the entire four years we were apart and now, like an angry dragon, my desire was being woken from its slumber.

A knocking sound momentarily broke through to my conscious mind. I looked around, trying to place it. Perhaps something knocking against the wall in the wind.

It came again, but it sounded as if it was coming from inside.

I peeled myself off of the railing and crawled slightly before standing and walking into my living room, closing the screen behind me.

The knocking again and my eyes immediately went to my door. Somebody was here.

I swallowed hard, trying to compose myself, I only hoped they wouldn't look below my waist.

I opened the door.

Cartman. Dripping wet. His black dress shirt clinging to his chest, his black jeans clinging to his hips, his golden swastika shining against the black.

"Eric," I whisper, not trusting my voice. My heart was racing. Was I dreaming? Was this real?

He stepped forward, our bodies almost touching. He reached out, his finger tips brushing against my cheek.

My body gave in immediately, letting my face lean into his touch.

Cartman's face moved dangerously close to mine. "I've waited four years for you to look at me like that," he breathed against my lips.

I kissed him. Hard. Every feeling poured from my mouth onto his. My hate, my confusion, my longing.

Cartman's arms were around me in an instant, pulling me in close. I heard the soft metal clink of our necklaces coming together. He pushed me forward and shut the door behind himself, not once letting his lips leave mine.

I forgot to breathe and my world span. I clung to him, my emotions raw. He was everything I hated and everything I wanted.

I reached between us and quickly unbuttoned his shirt. My hands ran over his bare skin, feeling the muscles underneath. I felt my way up his stomach and chest to his shoulders and slid the shirt completely off him, leaving him standing there topless.

I pulled away from his lips and moved back a bit to look at him. I almost regretted doing so. Topless I could take in his gorgeous shape. The very broad shoulders, the barrel chest. The only word I could think of to describe him was powerful. It was having a very noticeable affect on me. My pants, once again, were becoming uncomfortably tight.

Cartman just grinned softly and with his large hands slid my green cardigan off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. He wrapped one arm around me, pulling me tight once more. "If you don't want this, you should say so now, or I won't be able to stop myself from making you my Jew once and for all," he said softly, running a finger over my Star of David.

I took his swastika in my fingers and pressed it gently to my lips. I watched his eyes as I did so and saw them darken at the gesture, his grip on me tightening. Enjoying the reaction I teased him further, running the tip of my tongue over the cool, wet metal.

He leaned down and whispered gruffly into my ear. "Take me to your bedroom. Now."

I grinned and pulled away from him. I started walking to my bedroom and looked over my shoulder at him, very openly drinking in his form. I turned back and walked to my bedroom, waiting for him to follow.

I didn't have to wait long, he was suddenly there with me, slamming the door shut and grabbing me, kissing me hard, hungrily, his tongue delving deep into my mouth.

My body melted against his. As I pressed against him I could feel his hardness against mine and I instinctively grinded hard into him, moaning desperately.

His deep responding moan filled my mouth and he grabbed my ass, controlling my hips as he grinded us together shamelessly.

After a few moments of enjoying the friction he pulled away and quickly undid my jeans, pulling them along with my boxers clean off my body. He then kicked off his shoes and quickly stripped down himself.

We stood there for a moment, naked, our necklaces the only things left on. The rain, thunder, and our heavy breathing filled the room.

I threw myself at him. Clawing, kissing, grinding. I felt as if I was starving for his skin, his lips, his manhood.

He moved to kneel down but I moved back, crawling onto my bed. "No. I can't wait any longer. I need you to take me," I tell him, nearly moaning it.

"Lube?" He asks.

I point to the night table. "Top drawer."

He nods and gets it from the drawer.

I watch as he climbs up onto the bed and kneels between my legs. "I don't want your fingers either," I whisper.

His eyes turn another shade darker, hazing over in his lust. He slicks his cock up as well as my entrance then tosses the bottle to the floor.

"Last chance to say no, Jew," he whispers to me, teasing my entrance with the head of his cock.

"Don't make me wait any longer for you to be mine," I reply, my body squirming in anticipation.

He pushes into me slowly, gently. I can feel myself stretching around him, my body taking him in easily, fully relaxed in my lust.

"Eric..." I moan as he pushes more and more of himself into me, working his way inside.

"Kyle," he moans darkly as he pushes all the way in, pausing for a moment.

I stare up at him and know I am doomed. Every inch of my body is on fire for him, begging for more, needing for him to mark me as his. Nobody will ever be able to do this to me, not like he can. He is the only one I could ever submit to.

His large frame leans over mine, my legs wrapping around his waist. He kisses me deeply. "Mine," he whispers before pulling back and thrusting hard back into me.

I cry out in surprise, pain, and pleasure. "More!" I moan lustfully.

He does it again and whispers into my ear. "I will give you everything you want, you naughty, greedy Jew."

I glare up at him but not for long as my face contorts into another cry of pleasure as he thrusts into me again, and again.

He fucks me hard and slow for awhile, sending wracking, ecstatic shivers through my body. My hands claw and grip at his shoulders and back. I hate how complete I feel, how easily I succumbed to him.

"Tell me what you want Kyle," Eric whispers into my ear.

"I want it harder, faster," I reply.

He pulls out and I whimper at the loss.

"Get on your hands and knees," he orders.

I immediately comply, rolling onto my hands and knees.

He shoves back into me without warning and immediately starts fucking me hard and fast, groaning loudly, his hands gripping my hips hard, pulling me back onto him.

"Eric!" I cry out, gripping at the blankets under my hands. He shifts slightly and my vision goes white with painful, consuming pleasure. I can't stop myself from crying out and moaning wildly.

"Fuck, Kyle," he groans, his pace starting to becoming erratic. He reaches around and grabs my cock, thrusting his hand back and forth along it.

My body is shaking and I feel like I'm going to collapse. "Eric, Eric I, I'm going to-"

"Kyle, fuck, KYLE!" He groans loudly and deeply, thrusting wildly into me as he orgasms.

His orgasm sends me over the edge and I cry out, my cum showering my bed. My body shakes as it rides out wave after wave of intense ecstasy.

We fall into a sticky, sweaty heap on my bed, panting heavily.

I roll into him, my limp, tired body snuggling into his. My eyes close and the last thing I remember is strong arms wrapping around me and pulling me close.

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><p>I wake up feeling disoriented, the dim morning sun lighting up my room. I blink a few times and roll over before everything comes back to me in a rush.<p>

I sit up, looking for him, but there's no sign of him. I look to the floor but his clothes are gone and strangely so are mine. I look around and find them on my dresser, folded neatly and looking dry.

I smirk and crawl out of bed, ignoring the aches and stickiness. I walk to the dresser and see a note on top of the clothes. It has his name, his cell number, and a small message.

"Meet me at Fred's Steak House tonight at 7."

I smile softly realizing that Cartman didn't simply want a one night stand, he wanted to actually date me.

I look up into my mirror and gasp softly as I see yet another thing very out of place.

Around my neck is a gleaming gold swastika instead of my Star of David.

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><p><strong>AN:** _ Hey everybody! I hope you enjoyed my sexy/cute little one shot. Yes, sorry, I prefer to do my fanfictions in short story form right now. This is because I'm working on a large project over at fictionpress - my m/m soap opera! If you're interested I really hope you will check it out. Just head to fictionpress dot com slash ~dianelennox. Or go to my profile here and check the links!_


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